


For Now

by Goodluckdetective (scorpiontales)



Series: Dust to Dust [11]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Implied/Referenced Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-09-25 02:02:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9797510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scorpiontales/pseuds/Goodluckdetective
Summary: No one can escape from Fort Drakon entirely unscathed.Thankfully, Brosca has had worse.





	

Less than twenty-four hours after she’s captured, Lira shows up to the Arl’s estate with her tunic covered in blood.

 

“ _ Most of it isn’t mine _ ,” she signs when Wynne gets sight of her. She looks down where blood is staining the carpet and frowns.  _ “Alright, maybe half of it is mine, but honestly it looks a lot worse than it is.” _

 

She’s right, in a way. None of the wounds she’s has gained while in captivity are deep, and only one will scar given Wynne’s magic, if that. They’re shallow cuts mostly on her arms, and back, long lines that speak to a blade more than a whip. Things gained from something other than a fight.

 

“They tortured you,” Zevran says when he gets a look at her. Wynne has cleared out to find Alistair (he has been locked away arguing with the Arl for the last hour about a rescue mission), and Zevran refuses to leave the Warden alone while the woman who betrayed her lingers down the hall. Zevran sits in the chair across from the bed Lira has been told to lay on for the next hour, no exceptions. She’s propped herself up with pillows. 

 

_ “Could have been worse. I was worried they’d break my fingers _ .” She cracks her knuckles after signing, a small frown on her face.  _ “That would be inconvenient.” _

 

“You’ve been through this before.” It’s not a question. Zevran has suspected as such for an age. The Carta did not seem kind to those in it’s ranks when he visited. So much like the Crows despite their different trades.

 

“ _ Once or twice in a bad job. I’m mostly just pain tolerant _ .” She looks at Zevran and tilts her head just so. “I assume you’re the same?”

 

Zevran leans back in the chair he’s sitting in. “I think you know the question to already that Warden.”

 

It’s not a kind topic but both of them smile anyway. There’s a companionship in this, staring into the darkest parts of the world and coming back. Knowing that the person across from you sees you not as something to be pitied but a kindred spirit. 

 

Leliana understands as well, Lira knows. She frets when she comes by, if she wasn’t she wouldn’t be Leliana, but there is no pity in it. Alistair comes soon after, panic in his eyes as he turns the corner. His shoulders slump, relief evident when he takes in Lira on the bed, waving at him with a slight smile. 

 

“Thank the Maker.” Zevran gets up from his spot and gestures for Alistair to take his place. Alistair doesn’t even comment on his bow, which shows perhaps how out of it he is. He looks at Lira, mouth turned into a frown as he catalogues the magically healed pink marks that will be gone within twenty four hours. 

 

“ _ They wanted me to talk _ ,” Lira explains. “ _ They found it difficult _ .”

 

“That’s not funny.”

 

“It’s a little funny,” Morrigan remarks from the doorway and Alistair glares at her until she leaves.

 

“When they came back without you,” Alistair says when he’s sure Morrigan is out of earshot. “I thought-”

 

Lira doesn’t let him finish, leaning forward to kiss him. He’s lost in it for a moment, and when she pulls back she’s smiling. 

 

“ _ And leave you to slay Archdemon on your own? Never. _ ” She lies back on the pillows. “ _ Can we save the talk of tomorrow for an hour. I’d hate to debate the future of the kingdom when I can’t properly pace. _ ”

 

“Absolutely.” Alistair looks at the doorway for a moment then back at Lira. A smirk she now recognizes from almost a year of exposure spreads across his face. “Did Wynne say anything about sharing those blankets? I’m afraid it’s rather drafty in here. Might catch a cold.”

 

Minutes later, they’re cuddled on bed, sharing a blanket. Lira is fast asleep, healing magic takes a lot out of anyone, and Alistair presses a kiss to her head where her light brown hair has almost overtaken the blonde dye entirely. Later tonight they will have to discuss things, discuss a future, if they can let Anora still have the crown after what she has wrought, if he should take a position that he has never trained for, the battle that will await them even if all goes right. They will have to march into a room with Anora and ask he what to do next, despite the fact her actions could have led to Lira’s demise. But that’s later.

  
For now, two Grey Wardens rest.


End file.
